Broken Promises, Uncovered Secrets
by blue peanut m and m
Summary: Sam's deepest secret has come back to haunt him and this time not even his family is there to help. Sequel to Months To Rebuild, so mentions of Sam's abuse. Longer summary inside. Rated T
1. Chapter 1

**Promises Broken, Secrets Uncovered**

**Summary. . . . . Things had been tough for Sam in the years following his abuse at the hands of the Burton's, yet one thing had remained a constant, his family. One sentence said in fear and anger though has taken even that security away from him. Now someone knows his deepest secret and Sam's having to deal with it all alone. Sequel to Months To Rebuild, Seconds To Destroy. Mentions of Sam's rape and abuse. Rated k **

**Disclaimer. . . . Mistakes are mine, the boys unfortunately are not!**

**A.N. . . . . . Sammygirl1963 this is for you! I know that you have been waiting for this one. Thanks for all the encouragement and support, I hope that you enjoy. **

**To my other biggest supporter Darksupernatural thanks for all the nudges, pokes and prods.**

**To everyone else thanks for reading.**

_Sam's breath hitched as he felt familiar hands crawling all over his body, touching him, arousing him, even though they were unwelcome and unwanted. His mind became aware of words being seductively whispered in to his ear, words that made his skin crawl, words that made him feel fourteen all over again. His heart began thudding in his chest, his breathing becoming shallower as he willed himself to shut off, willed himself to be elsewhere but here. He tried desperately to move away from her clutches, but it was to no avail as her hands moved more rhythmically and all Sam could do was close his eyes and mind against his disobeying body, willing for it to just be over and done with. It was not to be though as he felt himself being turned over and yet more hands stroking down his back edging lower and lower until. . . . . _

Sam bolted upright in bed, trembling profusely, and sweat dripping down his face, neck and back, his breaths coming in quick short gasps. He wiped a shirt clad arm across his face, knowing that the wetness that quickly soaked it through was caused also by the tears that were silently coursing down his cheeks. This was the third night in a row that he had woken up this way from one of those dreams, the third night in a row that his nightmares past had come back to haunt him, the third night in a row that he had once again began to feel dirty, scared, defiled and very, very alone.

Swinging his extra long legs to the side of the bed, Sam waited a few seconds before standing on fawn like limbs and making his way towards the small fridge he kept stocked with bottled water, taking a bottle out he greedily downed half of it. Sitting down at his small desk he drank the second half just as quickly, along with three Tylenol he found in one of the drawers. Placing his throbbing, weary head into his hands, Sam allowed the tears to turn into sobs and suddenly feeling very young, he wished that his brother was there to make this all go away, wished that Dean was there to tell him that things would once again be okay.

Wasn't that after all what Dean had promised Sam all those years ago? That he should keep living, that every thing would get better? That throughout the highs and lows, he would always be there for Sam? Yet Dean wasn't here to make it all go away this time, wasn't there to get Sam through the pain and hurt of his nightmares, wasn't there with the reassurances that Sam had used to get through this last time. Dean hadn't been there for Sam since that fateful night nearly six months previous, when Sam for the third time in his young life had felt the earth crashing away beneath him. His heart jumped in his chest as he thought back to that fateful night.

_It had started out as just a normal, average night, he and Dean had been sparing in the sparsely furnished living room of the latest run down house they had rented whilst working another job, the younger brother for once having the upper hand in the session. When the door had slammed open both men had stopped abruptly and turned in time to see an irate John Winchester storm through the door, both men wondering what the hell was wrong._

"_How could you?" John had eventually spat out._

"_How could we what?" Dean had replied confusion clear in his voice and written plainly on his features._

_Sam though had understood perfectly, his face had paled as soon as he had spotted the envelope gripped in his fathers hand, his breath hitching as he had caught sight of the familiar seal. He tried to quickly place himself behind his smaller yet older brother in an attempt to hide from the wrath that he knew was about to come his way. He hadn't succeeded though and things had gotten much worse from that moment on._

_John, his fears and concerns about Sam being alone and unprotected, had lashed out with cruel words._

_Sam, not guessing the real reason behind the angry words, had retaliated with some of his own._

_Dean, stuck in the middle and unable to comprehend what was going on, had ended up just standing there._

_Sam had told their Dad of his want to go to college, to lead a normal life. He had told him of his scholarship, the full ride, but instead of the congratulations and happiness he thought he would receive, the words that had left John's mouth were vicious and hateful and had cut Sam deeply._

"_Look what the white picket fences and the manicured lawns got you the last time you wanted normal, Sam."_

_As Sam had stood there, hurt and in shock at what his Dad's words had implied, John had gone for the final blow._

"_If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back."_

_Sam had looked at his Dad, mistaking the look in his eyes for anger instead of fear, before turning his gaze towards Dean, needing his brother's support and encouragement. But Dean was struck dumb, caught in a daze, his mouth hung open and his eyes unfocused on anything. Sam's shoulders slumped as he realized the support he so desperately needed to hear would not be forth coming; he strode quickly out of the room so that both men would not witness the tears that started to fall in earnest._

_A promise broken in an instant, Sam_ _crammed as many of his belongings as possible into the one bag he owned and left the house without so much as a look back. The sense of complete and utter loneliness making him stumble and fall to his knees the minute the property was out of sight._

Sam was brought out of the memories when noises in the hallway met his ears. Wiping again at the tears that still fell down his cheeks, Sam contemplated what to do, who he could call to help him out of this one. He desperately wanted Dean, but his own stubborn Winchester pride was stopping him from calling. No, this was something that he would have to deal with, on his own if need be. But where did he start?

He looked over at his nightstand and the drawer that it contained, shivering slightly as if chilled at the thought of what was hidden inside. Why now? It had been so long ago, why was this being dragged up again now? After six years, why did someone want to hurt him so badly by digging those memories back up? And just who the hell was it? Who knew?

Sam had always been told that none of the players had been left alive. Every time he had woken from one of those nightmares in the first year that followed, Dean or his Dad had reassured him that there was no one left that knew what had gone on. Yet someone did know, and that someone was out to destroy Sam once again.

Sam could not believe his luck. He had finally, after a few rocky months, started to feel as though he fit into his new life at Stanford. At first he had spent his days concentrating on his courses, his nights in tears as loneliness had enveloped him. Now though, although still very much a loner, the other students didn't ignore him anymore, some even asking his opinion on topics they had just covered in class, others inviting him to the numerous parties that seemed to crop up every night. Opinions were given readily, party invites rejected kindly, Sam still not trusting or wanting to let his guard down by letting go; it didn't stop the invites from rolling in though.

Something else had even happened that Sam had thought would never happen, he'd met someone. Someone that he thought he could eventually be happy with, be truthful with, maybe even fall in love with. He hadn't told her of his past yet, hell in the two months that they had been closer than friends he hadn't even found the courage to give Jess more than just a quick peck goodnight, but he knew that he eventually would tell her and hope that she would understand and not judge him. He knew that with her help and encouragement and time he would be able to move the relationship further. Now though it seemed as though time had run out, the object in Sam's drawer meant that somebody knew what had happened to him, somebody even knew where he was and to Sam's mind it would only be a matter of time before others knew and his hard worked for new life once again came crashing down around him.

Sam picked up his phone, trembling fingers desperate to call the number he knew off by heart, but yet again something deep inside stopped him from doing so. He just couldn't do it, the pain from what he saw as his family's rejection still too raw for him, he just couldn't ring them. He had made his bed when he had left, now he would just have to lie in it, no matter the circumstances. Sam instead chose to call someone else; someone who also knew the truth, some one he hoped would not walk away and leave him alone with this.

**A.N. . . . . . I hope that was okay, it's really just a set up chapter for what is to come. Thanks as always for reading and I'll catch you soon, Peanut x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Broken Promises, Uncovered Secrets.**

**Summary. . . . . Things had been tough for Sam in the years following his abuse at the hands of The Burton's, yet one thing had remained constant, his family. One sentence said in fear and anger though had taken even that security away from him.**

**Now someone knows his deepest secret and Sam's having to deal with it alone. Sequel to Months To Rebuild Seconds To Destroy. Mentions of Sam's rape and abuse. Rated K **

**Disclaimer. . . . Maybe tomorrow, until then I'll just carry on playing. Mistakes are all mine!**

Sam's hands shook all the more as he waited for the person on the other end of the phone to answer, his heart thumping all the more furiously in his chest when they finally did so, only slowing when he heard the familiar timbre hit his ears.

"Hello?"

Sam blinked back tears of frustration as his voice failed him, humiliation washing over him at the thought of having to tell even this person that his dirty, disgusting secrets were once again resurfacing. The friendly, safe voice spoke once more and Sam found himself breaking inside all the more.

"Hello? Who's there?"

Sam finally found his voice this time and around a sob managed to croak out a whispered answer. "G. . . . . George?"

George Vose had decided to retire from the police force soon after Sam's second bout of abuse at the hands of the Burton family. The internal politics, bribes to free undesirables, and the court systems negativity towards the victims had eventually gotten too much for him. Unsure of what to do, it had been Sam himself that had finally suggested that he become a hunter. He had found out pretty quickly though that the actual hunt wasn't for him, but his connections in the force added to his meticulous research skills, that surpassed even Bobby's at times, had meant that he had become invaluable to the small band that he had come to call, family.

Occasion called that he sometimes was needed to still partake in one or two simple salt and burn jobs when no one else was available as back up, and so that was why he was to be found sat in a truck parked outside a graveyard when his phone rang. Taking it out of his pocket and noticing the unregistered number he was in two minds whether to cut the call, something pricking at the back of his mind though stopping him.

"Hello?"

When nobody responded, George took the phone away from his ear thinking that he could possibly mistakenly have cut the call anyway, at seeing that he hadn't he tried again.

"Hello? Who's there?"

After a brief pause, George was finally rewarded with a quiet, almost whispered answer. Surprise, confusion and fear fought to be the winner in his head as he registered who the caller was, registered the tears trying to hide beneath his softly, stuttered name.

"G. . . . . George?"

"Sam, is that you son? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah it's me."

"Sam, what's wrong? It's like eight thirty in the morning here, so you're at what? Five thirty?"

"I don't know what time it is, I'm sorry that I called you so early, but I didn't know who else to call, I should just go." Sam rushed out, his sentences practically falling over themselves.

"Sam, Sam. Don't worry about the time I was up anyway, I just need you to calm down and tell me what's wrong. Can you do that for me?" George could hear Sam's breathing hitch as his sobs increased and he fought to regain his composure.

"George, are you alone?"

George glanced at the other occupant inside the truck, the occupant whose eyes had widened when he had realized who George was talking too, taking a gamble George decided on a little white lie. "Yeah Sam, I'm alone. Now please tell me what's up."

Sam was quiet for a very long time before he managed to speak again, when he did so his words cut through George like daggers. "Someone knows, George."

George didn't need to know what it was that someone knew, there could be only one reason that would get Sam as upset as he was. Taking another glance at the person beside him, George made a decision. "I'm on my way Sam, but it will take me some time to get there. Keep yourself safe until I do, okay?"

"Yes."

"It'll be okay Sam, I promise. I'll call you after I've organized a flight."

Another muffled okay could be heard before the call was cut. Taking the phone away from his ear, George stared at it until the person next to him, unable to stow his curiosity any longer, spoke up.

"George? What's wrong? What's going on with Sam?" Caleb's concerns echoing in both his voice and his expressive chocolate brown eyes.

George didn't want to hang around; starting the engine he gunned the truck and headed for the highway, deciding to tell Caleb what he knew on the way to the airport. "Sam says somebody knows."

"God damn it!" Caleb bellowed out his fist punching at the dash. "But how? And who? We dealt with all the main players, and the bitch took care of that Corey kid. The other two were mere pawns, and believe me they were sent away knowing what would happen if they spoke up. Who the hell could have found out?"

"I don't know, Caleb. Alls I do know is that Sam sounded pretty messed up and the sooner we get there the better."

"Has he rang Dean?"

"I don't think so."

"Do you think that we should?"

"I don't know, but I'm guessing that Sam doesn't want him to know for whatever reason, otherwise he would have called him himself. I say we respect his wishes, we get out there, and we decide from there."

"I don't know George. If Sam's in trouble and we don't tell Dean, he's gonna be pissed. What if Sam gets taken again? Could you live with that guilt? I know I couldn't. I think we should tell him."

"We don't even know what's going on yet Caleb and I already lied to Sam by saying you weren't here. Let's get there and try and convince Sam to call home himself."

Caleb reluctantly agreed and the rest of the journey had passed in silence. Arriving at the airport, George left Caleb to park the car as he sorted out the tickets, the younger man doing so before returning to the terminal. Caleb paused outside the main entrance before entering, he knew how angry he would be if he had been left out of knowing Sam was hurting, he could only guess that that anger would be multiplied for Dean. Taking out his phone he quickly speed dialed a number and waited for an answer, guilt eating away at his insides at what he felt was a betrayal of Sam's trust. But then again he thought, Sam didn't even know that he knew and that fact made him feel a little better. The voice that finally answered at the other end also helped and Caleb answered back knowing that he had made the right decision.

"Dean, you need to meet us at Stanford."

Sam had decided to take a shower after his call to George had ended, thankful that because of the early hour the communal bathroom was empty. He had still felt exposed though, feelings of being watched making him feel both dirty and terrified, so much so he had reverted back to doing something he hadn't done in a very long time and had refused to strip completely. He had closed his eyes as he stepped under the spray, his tears that had started to fall again mingling with the scorching water, water that he had hoped would wash away his depression.

Even the water though, that had always worked in the past to ease him, was working against him today, each drop feeling like a finger trailing down his body, so sure was he that someone was in there with him, touching him, Sam had hastily pulled his clothes back on, not caring that he was still dripping wet, and had bolted back to the relative safety of his own room.

After making sure that he had locked both the door and the window, he had crawled onto his bed as far as he could, so that he was backed against the wall. He pulled up his wet, denim clad legs against his chest, his head dropping to rest on top of them, one arm hugging around his legs, the other wrapped over his head trying to cover his ears in an attempt to block out Sherry's voice that he could hear whispering what she planned to do next.

When, no matter how hard he grabbed his head, her words still continued to make them selves known, Sam removed his arm. Falling to his side and curling up into the smallest ball his tall frame could manage, his body shaking as trembles wracked his frame once more, he started to lightly finger the faint scars that still remained on both his wrists, while his mind drowned in his dreams.

**A.N. . . . . Loved writing this chapter and I hope it shows. Thanks for reading as always, Peanut x**


	3. Chapter 3

**Broken Promises, Uncovered Secrets.**

**Summary. . . . . . Things had been tough for Sam in the years that had followed his abuse at the hands of the Burton's, yet one thing had remained constant, his family. One sentence said in fear and anger though had taken even that security away from him. Now someone knows his deepest secrets and Sam's having to face it alone. Sequel to Months To Rebuild Seconds To Destroy. Mentions of Sam's rapes and abuse. Rated T.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . Mistakes are all mine, The Winchesters, unfortunately are not!!**

**A.N. . . . . Sorry about the wait, for some unknown reason the site would not let me on it at all yesterday. Happy reading, Peanut x**

Dean relentlessly banged on the door of the bathroom in the latest motel that thetwo eldest Winchester's had chosen to stay in, trying desperately to get his Dad out of the shower. When the water showed no signs of stopping, he raised his foot and kicked the door in. After Caleb's mysterious call, Dean had tried unsuccessfully to call Sam, when all he had got was his brother's answer machine, his apprehension had grown. Dean knew his brother inside and out, he knew that no matter what had happened that night he had walked through the door and out of their lives, no matter that they had not spoken to each other these past six months, he knew that Sam would never ignore a phone call from him, or their Dad; something bad had happened.

As the door crashed into the sink unit, the shower curtain rattled back to reveal a soap suds covered John Winchester, a scowl written on his face. He opened his mouth to question his son's move, when Dean beat him to it, his words short and to the point turning John's blood to ice and the scowl into a look of dread.

"Dad, something's wrong, we need to get to Stanford, now!"

Turning off the shower, as Dean rushed back out to pack their meager belongings, John didn't care that he was still soap covered and wet, he pulled on his clothes and went out to help, questions flowing from his lips.

"Is it Sammy? What's happened? Has he had an accident? Is he okay?"

"Dad!" Dean eventually shouted back. "I don't know. Caleb called and said we needed to meet him and George there, he didn't go into details, but he wouldn'thave called us if it wasn't something bad."

"Wait! You're brother called Caleb?" John's words were filled with bitterness and anger.

"Don't start Dad." Dean retaliated. "You didn't. . . . . We didn't exactly send Sam off with a warm welcome to come back. You know Sam; you know how stubborn he can be, just like you I might add, which is another reason why I'm worried."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it Dad, if this was something small, something that Sam could handle; there would be no way he would have called anyone for help. This is something big."

"Have you tried calling him?"

Dean rolled his eyes at his father. "Of course I tried calling him, it went straight to voicemail."

"Sam would have answered; he would have seen your name and answered."

"I know that, why do you think I kicked the door in?"

"Try Caleb again see if he's heard any thing more. Tell him we're leaving now and we should be there in about five hours."

Dean tried Caleb's number, giving his Dad a concerned look at getting no answer. Quickly packing the rest of their things in silence, they were soon starting their respective vehicles and starting their journey. Both men's stomachs clenched tight with concern and worry, their minds hoping that the heart and soul of their smallfamily was going to be okay when they eventually arrived.

Sam had stayed curled up on his bed, lost in his thoughts as the sun finally rose. He had heard his phone ringing numerous times, but couldn't will himself to answer. He had also heard the occasional knocking on his door, heard the shouts of his name, but he continued to just lay there, still gently stroking his scars, his eyes fixed on the bedside table, alternating between the clock and the drawer that held what had brought all those memories crashing back.

As the clock ticked around to nine, another knock came at Sam's door, a knock he was beginning to recognize. It was followed shortly afterwards by Jess' soft voice calling his name, a voice that made Sam move for the first time in hours. He couldn't understand it, and he didn't know why, but she made him feel safe when she was around almost as much as Dean had.

As she knocked again, this time trying his cell as well, Sam rose from the bed and stumbled for the door, catching sight of himself in the mirror he knew he wouldhave some explaining to do when he finally let her in. He wasn't to be disappointed, Jess' inner mother hen had kicked in the minute she had laid eyes on his blood shot, red rimmed eyes, his paler than normal complexion, his disheveled clothing and hair. Ushering him back to the bed, she voiced her concerns along the way.

"Sam, are you feeling okay? Is everything alright? Do you need me to call a doctor?"

Sam couldn't help the involuntary shudder that raced through his body as Jess' hand gently rubbed his back. He fought back the need to move away and the nausea that rose at the thought that it wasn't Jess beside him, but Sherry. Coughing to clear his throat, and with guilt overwhelming him, he turned to Jess and lied.

"I guess I must be coming down with something, I didn't sleep well." He told her, unable to look her in the eyes.

Jess knew instantly what he had done, that Sam was holding something back, but something inside of her was telling her not to push this, that if she did Sam would bolt from her. She'd seen the scars on Sam's wrists quite early on in their relationship and had asked about them, nearly losing Sam there and then because she did so. No, she thought to herself, this time she would wait for Sam to open up to her. Just trust him, she thought, he will tell you eventually. She tried to hide the hurt she was feeling, tried to make her voice light as she spoke.

"Do you want to take a walk? Get some fresh air? Maybe get a coffee?"

Still refusing to look at her Sam nodded his head. Getting up he pulled a button down shirt over his t-shirt before following it with a hoodie. At seeing him do this Jess' anxiety rose even more, the temperature outside was already quite high, it was almost as if Sam were trying to hide himself. Pushing those thoughts to the back ofher mind she stood and walked to the door Sam following her, pulling a cap over his messed up hair and low over his eyes as he did so.

They walked out of the dorms and into the throngs of people that were milling around going back and to between classes. Heading for the cafeteria they hadn't got far when another student stopped them and pressed an envelope into Sam's hand before quickly disappearing into the crowds. Sam didn't need to open it to know what would be contained inside. He froze to the spot, his breathing becoming erratic, and trembles visible through all the layers of clothes, tears falling freely, unknowingly and uncontrollably down his cheeks.

As someone accidentally brushed past him, Sam fell cowering to the floor, his arms coming up to cover his head. Jess could only stand there in shock, not knowing what to do to help. As the crowd grew around them though, she knew she had to do something. Crouching down she placed her hand on Sam's shoulder trying to get his attention, but the reaction she got instead was something she was not prepared for. Sam stiffened before lashing out, pushing Jess away from him. Whispered words that only she could hear fell from his mouth. "Please no more, please don't do this again."

Sam stumbled to his feet, dropping the envelope as he did so, and crashed awkwardly into an onlooker, they grabbed Sam's arms trying to steady him, but Sam's mind locked in the past tried desperately to push away the helping hands. His eyes frantically searched for a way to escape, he couldn't go through this again, he didn't want to, Dean had promised that he would never have to. But Dean had left him alone, Dean wasn't there to help him, Dean wasn't there to save him. He pulled harshly away from the arms that held him steady and pushed his way through the crowds, crying out in terror whenever a handtried to stop him. Instinctively he ran for the sanctuary of his room and the safety he felt it provided.

Jess could only watch as Sam crumbled in front of her, could only watch as terror seemed to devour him, making him flee from the hands that were trying to help him, as he disappeared from sight though she forced herself to move. Picking up the envelope she ran after him, hoping that she was right and he was heading back to his dorm. She pounded on his door when she eventually arrived, not caring about the curious looks that she was receiving from other students. When she received no answer she tried his phone.

Apprehensive when she still got no answer, Jess tried the door, confused and surprised when she found it unlocked, Sam would never leave his door unlocked. Pushing the door open she stepped inside, only to find the room empty and disorderly, the window thrown open. Running over to it she looked out, but Sam was nowhere to be seen. Jess slumped back down onto the bed, only then remembering the envelope in her hand.

She contemplated not looking at it, but she loved Sam and she needed to know what was wrong, she needed answers. Slowly she ripped the top open and spilled the contents out, two photos. Turning them over, she felt sick to her stomach at the images she saw. Images of a boy, that Jess could clearly tell was Sam, being touched by a much older woman. Jess' heart broke. So this was what Sam couldn't tell her, this was why, at times, he always held back from her touch. She could understand why, yet part of her was saddened that he hadn't trusted her.

Placing the disgusting images face down beside her on the bed, Jess pulled her knees to her chest, unknowingly repeating what Sam had done earlier, and with her own tears falling settled down to wait for Sam to return.

**A.N. . . . . . . Thanks as always for reading, hope it was okay? Will catch you soon, Peanut x**


	4. Chapter 4

**Broken Promises, Uncovered Secrets.**

**Summary. . . . . . Things had been tough for Sam in the years that had followed his abuse at the hands of the Burton's, yet one thing had remained constant, his family. One sentence said in fear and anger though had taken even that security away from him. Now someone knows his deepest secrets and Sam's having to face it alone. Sequel to Months To Rebuild Seconds To Destroy. Mentions of Sam's rapes and abuse. Rated T.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . Mistakes are all mine, The Winchesters, unfortunately are not!!**

**A.N. . . . . . As always have a happy read, this is a build up chapter which I think was needed before moving on, Peanut x**

A little over an hour later and Jess had taken to pacing restlessly around Sam's small, cramped dorm room, her agitation over Sam increasing with every passing minute. She tried hopelessly to reassure herself that Sam was in fact fine, that he just needed time to think, that he just needed some space, some alone time; but as the minutes past into an hour, Jess began to worry that maybe alone time was the last thing that Sam needed. She picked up one of Sam's discarded hoodies, a sudden urge to feel just a little part of Sam consuming her, and bringing it to her face she breathed in deeply the smell that was Sam's and Sam's alone.

Her eyes threatening tears again she pulled it quickly on over her own sweater before slumping down once again on Sam's bed to begin the waiting game yet again. A commotion outside in the hallway met her ears but Jess chose to ignore it, thinking that it was just another student dispute. As the shouting increased though, she found herself intrigued. Pushing up from the bed she walked slowly over to the door. Pulling it open on its stiff hinges, she popped her head outside.

Four doors down from Sam's, Jess could see David, the dorm's security, trying to restrain an angry looking man from venturing any further, three other rough looking men trying there hardest to keep the first from hitting David. Jess gave the men a quick glance over before starting to turn back inside, something about the youngest man stopping her. Glancing back his way she stepped closer to take a longer look.

Standing a good few inches shorter than Sam, there was still some familiarity about the guy. They looked nothing alike, this guys green eyes held none of the warmth Sam's hazel ones did. His short cropped hair, nothing like Sam's unruly mess. The two even dressed as far apart as possible, Sam's button downs and hoodies, Jess thought would look ridiculous on the guy in front of her, just as his battered boots and leather jacket, tour t-shirt and ripped jeans would not be a good look for Sam.

Jess looked up into his eyes once more though and just knew that this was Sam's brother. She smiled as her tears fell, maybe all was not lost, maybe she didn't have to face this alone, maybe they could help her find Sam and bring him back.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNS

Dean had pulled the Impala to a screeching halt behind a rental car that had just parked across from what he presumed was Sam's dorm. He hurriedly climbed out as he saw George's tall, bulky frame do the same from the rental's passenger side, Caleb's shorter, stockier figure clambering to do the same from the driver's side. Dean heard the rumble of his Dad's truck coming up the street but still headed for the two hunters's, determined to find out what was going on.

George, at seeing Dean, turned angry eyes Caleb's way; Caleb brushed them away as he spoke. "He needed to know!" He walked to meet the middle Winchester, ready for the barrage of questions he knew were about to come. "Dean." Caleb greeted pulling the younger man in for a stiff hug.

"Caleb." Dean answered, his hands quickly grasping the other hunter before he just as quickly released them. Standing back he looked Caleb in the eye before letting the barrage loose. "Where's Sam? What's happened? What's wrong with him? Has he had an accident? Is he hurt? Where is he?"

"Dean, calm down!"

"Calm down! You tell me to drop everything and get here as soon as possible, yet you don't tell me why. Don't tell me to calm down. Tell me what the fuck is going on?"

Caleb rubbed a hand across his stubble covered chin, looking at Dean's hopeful, expectant eyes he answered. "Sam rang George upset about something. George tried to calm him down and he eventually did, somewhat. Sam managed to tell George. . . . . "

"Tell George what?"

"Tell George, that someone knew."

Dean's heart shattered, his knees buckling as the words he had been dreading hearing for over six years came out of Caleb's mouth. Caleb threw out his arms in an attempt to stop Dean from crashing to the tarmac, only to have them roughly pushed away as Dean's composure readied itself.

"How?" Dean spat out, looking at all the men in turn. "You told us both, that it was over. You told Sam he would never have to go through that again, that he could start living again. Fuck!"

"Dean, we don't know how. I called Joshua as soon as I finished speaking with you. He was the last one to check up on the two guys, there's no change with them; in fact he said that the Paul kid has completely lost it. It's neither of them."

"Fuck!" Dean shouted again. "I need to see Sammy." He ground out before turning and running for the dorm building, the others following closely behind. Banging through the double doors Dean grabbed the first student that passed him by. "Where's Sam Winchester's room?"

"Second floor . . . . . 218." The kid stuttered out, thankful that the crushing grip was released as Dean took off up the stairs, ignoring the shouts of protests from the security man that had taken to following him.

At the top of the stairs, Dean was momentarily confused as to which way to go, the guy taking the opportunity to step in front of Dean, effectively barring his way.

"Move!"

"I'm sorry sir, you're not allowed up here. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to ask you to leave.

"Move. Out. Of. My. Way!" Dean shouted, as his Dad grabbed his arm to stop him from hitting the guard.

In the melee that followed, Dean didn't see the blonde head that popped out of a doorway further down the hallway, didn't see the curious look that was sent his way, didn't see the look of recognition that lit up her otherwise saddened face, but he did hear his name being tentatively, questioningly called.

He shot a glance over the security guards shoulder, looking for the voice that had called him, his eyes eventually finding the source. Just like Jess had previously, Dean instinctively knew that this girl knew Sam, and judging by the red rimmed eyes she knew something about his brother that he didn't. Dean pushed the guard away and rushed forward.

"Yes, I'm Dean. Where's Sam? Is he okay?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know. He got upset over something and ran back here, but when I got here he had gone. Listen, I don't want to discuss this out here, and I really need to show you something, you'd better come inside." Jess turned to look at David. "It's okay, this is Sam's family. There's been some bad news."

David seemed to believe Jess, as he moved out of the other hunter's way and allowed them to go into Sam's room. Dean waited for Jess to close the door before he started once again to pound her with questions.

"Where's Sam? Who are you? What do you mean you have something to show me?" He yelled at the obviously startled and upset young woman.

Jess though, regained her composure quickly; straightening to her full height she turned blazing eyes on Dean. "My name is Jess, I'm Sam's girlfriend and I would very much like some answers."

Dean, momentarily taken aback, stood in shock for a few seconds before he replied. "Answers to what?"

Jess pulled the photos Sam had dropped earlier from her pocket. "These!"

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Sam had run back to the dorm. Blinded by his tears, he had stumbled into the room, slumping to the floor behind the door as soon as it was closed. His eyes found their way to his nightstand almost as if drawn by the power the photos inside the drawer held over him. Suddenly his room didn't seem so safe anymore, that feeling heightening when someone pounded on his door.

Sam, panic stricken and blinded by fear, scoured his room for some sort of weapon to defend himself with, not realizing that it was Jess' voice he could hear shouting his name. He searched in vain, his mind unfocused, forgetting about the stash he kept hidden under the loose bottom of the last drawer in his desk. With his heart beating faster and faster he looked to the window, desperate now to keep those hands from touching him once more.

Crossing over he opened it up and looked out, his irrational mind refusing to see how high the drop was, instead it seemed to almost urge him on. Turning around he clambered out, lowering himself as far as he could he dropped, his left foot twisting underneath him as he landed, pain shooting up his leg. Sam's mind though was elsewhere, he needed to go, he needed to get away, but where?

He frantically looked around searching for somewhere he would be safe, his gaze finally seeking what he was looking for in the distance. Not feeling the pain that shot through him with every running stride he took, he ran off in search of solace. Missing the car that pulled out and began to follow him.

**A.N. . . . . . I know, I know a cliffie! I'm suffering I think from the same illness that Scullspeare mentioned, evilcliffieitis. But mines only a mild case. Hope that you enjoyed, catch you soon, Peanut x**


	5. Chapter 5

**Promises Broken, Secrets Uncovered**

**Summary. . . . . Things had been tough for Sam in the years following his abuse at the hands of the Burton's, yet one thing had remained a constant, his family. One sentence said in fear and anger though has taken even that security away from him. Now someone knows his deepest secret and Sam's having to deal with it all alone. Sequel to Months To Rebuild, Seconds To Destroy. Mentions of Sam's rape and abuse. Rated k **

**Disclaimer. . . . Mistakes are mine, the boys unfortunately are not!**

**A.N. . . . . . . I'm so sorry for the delayed posting; it's been a tough week what with rainstorms, snowstorms, work and illness. But it's finally arrived, catch you later, Peanut x**

"Where's Sam?" Dean eventually asked.

"I don't know!" Jess replied. "Who sent these? What is going on? Why would anybody do this to Sam?"

"We don't know who sent them."

Well what do you know? Tell me what's going on."

"It's not my place to."

"What?" Jess looked between the men exasperatedly.

"Sam's obviously not confided in you, yet. It's not my place to tell you."

"I don't believe this! Sam's out there distraught and god knows where, his god damn family, who I might add, hasn't given a shit about him these past six months, suddenly show up out of the blue. Somebody passes these. . . . These things into Sam's hand and you don't think I need to know? Well fuck you! If you don't tell me, I'll call security and have you thrown off campus." She looked again at every man in turn before turning her attention back to Dean. "Now are you gonna tell me, or do I make the call?" She asked, her finger dialing the number before hovering above the call button.

Dean looked at the young woman standing defiantly before him, caught halfway between admiration for her, and anger. She obviously had strong feelings for Sam, but at the minute she stood in the way of him finding his brother, and that was something no one, not even their Dad was allowed to do.

"Look, I can't and I won't betray Sam's trust, okay? I know he will tell you everything in his own time, believe me. But we need to get him back and to do that we need your help. If you get us thrown off campus, Sam will get hurt and if that happens you had better run. Girl or no girl, I will hurt you if Sam gets hurt. So you need our help and we need yours, are you gonna make the call? Or will you help us? Please?" Dean implored of Jess.

Jess looked at the man before her trying to detect even a hint of untruthfulness in his words, relieved and apprehensive at the same time, when she found none. Relieved that Dean would bring Sam back, apprehensive that Dean was speaking the truth when he said without them she might never find Sam again. Her finger moved slightly to the left and she cancelled the number from her phone before dropping it onto the bed, her body following it not too long afterwards, her head dropping to her chest as her despair grew. She had millions of questions that needed answers, most of which could wait, but one just couldn't. Lifting her head, her eyes awash with unshed tears she asked Dean.

"Was Sam raped?"

Dean's own eyes filled up at Jess' question, a question he had wanted to avoid answering, but knew that he couldn't, they needed Jess' help, she was after all right, they didn't know shit about the past six months of Sam's life, what he had been doing, where he liked to hang out, for those answers they needed Jess. Looking her in the eye, he nodded his head and watched as she crumbled before him, watched as the tears she had been holding back fell, watched as she fought to gain back control, watched as she succeeded and steeled herself for what was to come. She wiped the tears away with the palms of her hands before looking back at him.

"What can I do to help find him?"

Dean felt so much love and admiration at that moment for the girl Sam had chosen to love, he hoped and wished that after all this was over, the two of them could work through all the problems that were to arise. His thoughts were interrupted when his Dad spoke up.

"Where's Sam? What happened? Where did these come from?" John lashed out, towering over a startled Jess.

"Dad, calm down! It's not Jess' fault." Turning to Jess he asked. "Tell us what happened this morning?"

"I came around about nine, Sam wouldn't answer the door at first, when he eventually did he looked so bad, but he just said he felt unwell, that he hadn't slept well. I managed to convince him to go outside for a bit, get some fresh air, you know? We hadn't gotten far when some other student thrust the envelope into Sam's hands. He didn't even look in it, almost as if he knew what was in it; as if he had received one before. He just freaked out, collapsed to the floor, shaking, crying. When I tried to comfort him he lashed out before taking off. I figured he had come back here, but when I got here he was gone, the window was open and I know he didn't pass me, I think he jumped from it."

John and Caleb flew from the room as soon as she said those last words.

"Where are they going?"

George spoke up for the first time after noticing Dean flounder with the question, his head still getting around the thoughts of an upset Sam. "They're gonna see if they can track Sam down." At seeing Jess' quizzical look, he added. "We're hunters and those two are the best trackers. If Sam left a trail, they will find it. Would you be able to recognize the student that passed Sam the envelope?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"Are you sure? Jess, it's really important we find him."

"Yes, I'm sure. He just looked like an average student."

"Jess" Dean found his voice again. "Is there anywhere Sam would go to if he was stressed or unhappy?"

"The library, I suppose." Dean actually grinned at that answer, some things never changed as far as Sam was concerned. He took out his phone to tell their Dad they were headed there, but Jess stopped him. "But it's usually crowded at this time of day, he would avoid the crowds."

"Anywhere else?"

"I don't know. . . . . Wait, I remember him saying he always felt calmer, refreshed, whenever he went to the mausoleum. I just thought it was weird."

"That's Sam, weird. Is the mausoleum far?

"Just past the medical buildings, not too far."

That's where he'll be, George go and let my Dad and Caleb know where we're going. I'm just gonna try Sam's phone again."

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Sam had run until his lungs had ached, his need to reach his calmness, his solace, his safety, his security all consuming. His phone rang numerous times, but his mind stopped him from hearing it. His ankle continued sending spikes of pain radiating up his leg, but yet again his broken mind forced them from making them selves known. Leaving the buildings behind he crossed the manicured lawns that stood in front of the monument, a sense of ease, of calm shrouding him the closer he got to his destination.

He had started coming here the first week he had arrived at Stanford, scared and unsure and alone, his visits becoming a weekly ritual since. He found the sense of peace here that he had used to find at Jim's church. Walking to the left of the main door, he stopped under the shade of the tree he always sat under and dropped his distraught and weary body to the ground. Pulling his knees to his chest he rested his head on them, staring ahead at the pristine white building almost as if getting the comfort, reassurances and answers he needed, his tears receding and his breathing returning to normal.

The car that had been following pulled into a parking lot on the edge of the medical facilities. The occupant no longer needing to follow his prey, he knew where he was going, he had after all been following Sam Winchester for months in his determination to act out revenge on the man he held responsible for ruining his family. Ever since his brother had returned, battered, scared, broken, withdrawing inside until he was nothing but a shell of his former self, no longer the hero to his younger sibling he used to be, his family had lost the will to live, breaking apart a little more every day.

When he had found the photos two years ago in a bag long since forgotten, he figured he had finally found someone to blame, spending every waking moment since trying to track down the boy in the photos, trying to find information, waiting for this day. He had found that information a year ago and had spent every day since following Sam, waiting for a chance; a chance that because of others watching Sam also never came.

When Sam had come to Stanford, it had been the break that he had needed. It was easier than he thought to mingle around campus; he looked just like any other student here. He spent days, weeks, months watching and waiting, happy in the knowledge that Sam's guardians were no longer there to keep him safe. A few forged papers here and there and he had gotten a job on campus, making the task even easier. Now he was ready to make Sam pay.

Getting out of the car, he walked over the grass and into the trees that surrounded the mausoleum on three sides; he knew where to come out to be behind his target. All's he had to do was wait for the few visitors to leave, bide his time, pounce, and revenge would after all this time, at last be his.

Sam's body had relaxed more and more the longer he sat there, breathing deeply, almost meditatively, just watching the visitors coming and going, trying to forget all about the demons of his past, trying to figure out a way past them and forward. He glanced up as the rain drops started to fall, a small smile gracing his lips, not quite reaching his eyes. He had always loved the rain, loved the way it felt as though it could cleanse his soul, wash away all he considered dirty about himself, wash away all his troubles.

He smiled again as he watched all the visitors scurrying away, trying to get to shelter. His phone rang again in his pocket, the shrillness of the ring tone breaking through his thoughts this time. Pulling it out he answered without checking the caller id, thinking it was Jess. The voice he heard on the other end though, brought a bigger smile to his face and tears of happiness to his eyes.

"Sam. . . . . Sammy? Is that you?"

"Dean?"

"Sammy, thank god. Are you okay? I'm on my way; you're at the mausoleum right? I'll be there in a minute."

"Dean? You're here? But. . . . . . . "

"But what, Sam?"

No answer.

"Sam, talk to me!"

Still no answer.

"SAMMY!"

**A.N. . . . . . DUN, DUN, DUNNNNN! Sorry couldn't help it. Thanks as always for reading, hope you enjoyed, Peanut x**


	6. Chapter 6

**Promises Broken, Secrets Uncovered**

**Summary. . . . . Things had been tough for Sam in the years following his abuse at the hands of the Burton's, yet one thing had remained a constant, his family. One sentence said in fear and anger though has taken even that security away from him. Now someone knows his deepest secret and Sam's having to deal with it all alone. Sequel to Months To Rebuild, Seconds To Destroy. Mentions of Sam's rape and abuse. Rated k **

**Disclaimer. . . . Mistakes are mine, the boys unfortunately are not!**

**A.N. . . . . . . Thanks as always for reading, catch you later, I'm off to watch last nights awesome episode again, I wonder if I could be Sam's ruler holder? Peanut x**

The whole world was crashing down around him, crushing him in its deadly embrace, making breathing harder and harder to do. Blackness began to blend in from the edge of his vision; vision that was for some unknown reason blurring, making everything he looked at seem as though he was bobbing in the ocean. His head was pounding so hard he thought it would split open, the pounding not being help by someone shouting; shouting words he couldn't quite make out. He wished though that they would stop, maybe then he could figure out what was happening, maybe then it would get easier to breathe.

He desperately tried to remember what was happening, what was going on, yet everything seemed to be just that little bit too far out of reach. He pushed harder, a knowing clench kneading his stomach urging him on. There was something he should be doing, something was seriously wrong. Pushing with an even greater sense of urgency he started to make some sense of the words that were being shouted, started to make out the owner of the voice, started to remember fragments.

George, Caleb, Dad, rushing, anguish, sorrow, a girl, blonde hair, someone preventing him, a room, tears, deeply hidden secrets, Sam's room, Sam scared, Sam in trouble, Sam running, Sam's voice, Sam's tears, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam!

He frantically gasped in a huge breathe, followed closely by another, his eyes wildly darted about the room, realization hitting full force. The voices in his head began to get quieter, the words making them known, and the voice his own, speaking over and over again. "Not again. Not again, this can't be happening. Please, not again."

He felt hands either side of his face, their grip firm yet gentle, another voice laced with concern and fear making itself heard. "Dean, son, you need to calm down, you need to breathe, you need to tell me what happened. Tell me what Sam said. C'mon Dean, that's it."

Dean forced himself to calm down, forced himself to regulate his breathing. Sam was in trouble, Sam was in trouble, Sam needed him, Sam needed him to be strong, c'mon Dean suck it up. He furiously blinked the tears from out of his eyes, forcing them to finally focus on the concerned faces before him, irrational anger raged inside him making him turn on his father. "What the hell are you doing here? Why aren't you at the mausoleum? Why aren't you looking for Sam?"

John took the anger in his stride. "Caleb has headed there; I needed to make sure you were okay."

"No! What you needed to do was go after Sam. What you needed to do was make sure Sam was okay. We need to go now!"

"Son what happened? What's gotten you so worked up?"

"Someone has Sam!"

"How do you know?"

"Because, he stopped talking to me, now can we go?"

John needed know other explanation from Dean; it was as simple as that. He knew that no matter what had happened in the past six months, no matter how badly things had ended between his two sons that night; Sam would never cut Dean off. He helped his oldest son up, his hand gently cupping his face for a brief moment, hoping that he could somehow offer Dean strength. As they ran from the room he shouted back over his shoulder. "Keep trying Sam's phone. I'll get a hold of Caleb. Jess which way?"

Glances were thrown their way as the four of them rushed back out of Sam's room, down the stairs and back out of the double doors, none of them caring though, or even seeing them for that matter, their soul determination set on getting to Sam before it was too late. Jess showed the way, her need to see Sam pushing her body way past its physical limits, allowing her to keep up with the fitter men.

As they edged closer to the manicured lawns she could hear Sam's father talking on his phone. Her stomach lurched as all of a sudden he stopped running. No, this couldn't be happening; she thought to her self, it has to be some sort of a nightmare surely. She wouldn't allow herself to stop running though, not even when the other older man stopped to check to check on John. With thoughts of Sam waiting for her, apologizing for the panic he had caused echoing through her mind she pushed herself forward harder.

As they turned the last corner though Jess could see Caleb's short stocky frame in the distance, and she knew instinctively that they were too late, her gait began to falter as Dean raced ahead, it alternated between slowing down, almost stopping before her mind would change urging her forward and she would burst ahead again, before slowing down once more. Hearing Dean's anguished cry, Jess pushed through her own worries, her own fears and plodded the last hundred or so feet, her head ringing, her mind wanting, and at the same time not wanting, to know what had happened, to know where Sam was.

Jess felt rather than saw John rush past her, feelings of being out of place, not wanted here, washing over her making her falter in her progress until she felt a strong arm grip hers and she looked up into the sad yet caring eyes of the other older man, his softly spoken words easing her doubts instantly.

"C'mon! Sam trusts you. Sam needs you. Sam would want you to be here."

Dean had stopped when he had seen the dread, the fear that emanated from Caleb's chocolate brown orbs. His mind going into denial though, he wandered why those feelings were there. Sam was okay, Sam was safe now that they were here, in fact any minute now Sam would step out from his hiding place and yell "fooled you" to everyone. At least that was what Dean's little bit of hope still clung to, but he knew deep down, that in reality that wasn't gonna happen, that Sam was gone, taken once again, but by who? And where? And why?

Looking back up at Caleb, steely determination and rage engulfed him; this couldn't happen to Sam again, he wouldn't let it. "Anything? Any tracks? Any trails? Any clues?"

"Maybe. . . . . ." Caleb started, Dean cutting him off before the rest of the sentence could be spoken.

"Maybe? Then let's get going. C'mon Sam's in trouble, what are we doing standing around here?"

"Dean, slow down."

"No! I will not allow Sam to go through that again. We need to find him now!"

"And we will, but there's something you need to see first."

Fear began to engulf Dean all the more after hearing Caleb's ominous words. "What? What do I need to see?" He couldn't help the tremble that could be heard on every word he spoke. Caleb just nodded his head to a tree behind him. Dean moved heavy leaded feet to get to a position that would allow him to see just what had caught Caleb's attention; his stomach rolling once again when he finally saw it.

Hung from a stub on the tree's trunk was the thin piece of leather that Sam wore, the same piece of leather that Dean had given Sam a few months before he left; the same piece of leather that no matter what Sam would never take off. That wasn't the only thing on the trunk though; something below the leather was glistening in the sunlight that despite the rain still shone. Blood. Sam's blood

He hadn't been able to believe his luck when the rain had started to fall sending all the visitors scurrying away, couldn't believe it again when his target hadn't made any attempt to move. Stealthily maneuvering himself closer and closer it wasn't long before he was less than five feet away; five feet between him and his revenge; five feet and his luck was about to run out.

The shrill ringing of Sam's cell phone made him slow his progress forward down, hearing Sam call out his brother's name had him stopping in his tracks. This couldn't be happening, he couldn't get so close only to have it all ripped away, he couldn't. He had to avenge what had happened to his brother. Moving quickly whilst Sam was distracted, he covered the distance. Grabbing Sam by his hair he yanked his head back before viciously ramming it into the tree.

As he watched Sam's body slide groggily to the side he knew that he would have to change his plans. Grasping Sam by the arm he quickly loosened and pulled off the leather bracelet and hung it from a stub before he hastily pulled him to his feet, supporting his captures weight when Sam's knees buckled beneath him, being a good few inches smaller he was thankful for all the weight training football required him to do. Turning he headed off quickly, he'd had six months to roam these woods and the surrounding buildings. Knowing he couldn't go back to his car just yet he aimed instead for somewhere else, somewhere he could lay low for awhile, somewhere he would not be disturbed, somewhere he would not be found, somewhere nobody would hear Sam's cries of pain.

**A.N. . . . . . Sorry it's a bit shorter than usual, will try and make the next chapter extra long to make up for it. Hope you enjoyed, Peanut x**


	7. Chapter 7

**Promises Broken, Secrets Uncovered**

**Summary. . . . . Things had been tough for Sam in the years following his abuse at the hands of the Burton's, yet one thing had remained a constant, his family. One sentence said in fear and anger though has taken even that security away from him. Now someone knows his deepest secret and Sam's having to deal with it all alone. Sequel to Months To Rebuild, Seconds To Destroy. Mentions of Sam's rape and abuse. Rated k **

**Disclaimer. . . . Mistakes are mine, the boys unfortunately are not!**

**A.N. . . . . . As always enjoy and happy reading, Peanut x**

He'd continued on through the woods until his feet had touched the beginning of a man made pathway, knowing that it would be harder to track them on this, but keeping a wary eye out for other passers by, he continued to drag a submissive Sam deeper into the foliage. He knew though that he didn't have much time; that he needed to hide Sam before he was caught, so that he could take another route to the place he had already prepared.

Turning back off the pathway a little while later, he pulled Sam down a trail made by years of students taking a short cut. Finding his marker he looked quickly around to make sure the coast was clear before dumping Sam unceremoniously to the ground. Reaching into the shrubs he grasped the handle that protruded from the hidden door and pulled. The hinges screeched from years of not being used, as it came away revealing the steps leading down to a passageway.

Working quickly he reached into his backpack and withdrew a syringe, plunging it into Sam's neck after taking off the guard. Using his feet he pushed Sam down the steps before closing the door once more. The fast acting sedative would keep him under until he could get back to him. Covering the passage entrance back up, he rearranged a few bushes and dead leaves and removed the marker, before standing back up and walking away.

He turned back after a few feet and tried to find out where the doorway was. It was impossible to see though, so he carried on walking, taking a book out of his backpack as he did so. He had just rearranged the pack onto his shoulders when he heard footsteps approaching and then a voice speaking up.

"Hey kid!"

He panicked slightly, unwilling at first to turn around, but he was sure he hadn't been seen, He turned slowly, gasping internally, hoping that his shock didn't register on his face as he took in the four men and the woman he recognized as Sam's girlfriend standing right next to where the opening was. He tried to calm his breathing as he spoke.

"Yeah?"

"You see two guys pass here? One might have looked afraid."

"No, but I've been kinda engrossed, trying to catch up before my next class." He answered, showing the book off for emphasis. "Speaking of which, I'm late. Good luck finding your friends."

He turned back and carried on walking, unable to keep the smug grin off his face. They really had no idea that the object of their search was literally lying beneath their feet. As he rounded a bend that would take him out of their sight, he dropped down and pretended to tie his shoelace. He took a quick furtive glance behind him as he did so to find out where Sam's family were, please to see that they had already started to head off in the other direction, only the short squat man staying behind to search more slowly and methodically, yet still in the wrong direction.

Standing back up he raced off towards his destination, although he was confident that Sam wouldn't be found he still felt the need to move him to the other place, a place where he would be able to start acting out his revenge. He rushed down another path, searching as he went for another marker he had left to enable him to find yet another covered entrance.

When he had realized that this would be where Sam would be going to school, he had spent months searching records and old newsprint, trying to find a suitable place to hide whilst he worked. It was only after he had spent weeks sifting through records in one of Stanford's libraries that he had found an in-depth topographical map of the tunnels that all led to the same place, the mausoleum. He had searched for days afterwards to try and find one of the entrances that would lead to the tunnels, years of foliage had thickly covered most, leaving them to be forever unfound. Out of the six he had eventually found two.

Well preserved stone walls, floors and ceilings had kept most of the tunnels intact, as he had first found out when he had gone exploring them, the best bit though was where they all ended up, a huge sound proofed room that equaled in size the structure above, perfect for what he needed to do.

For months after his initial discovery, he had spent his nights carefully preparing the room, dragging down his props; props to be used in gaining the information he required. A table of instruments and jars was placed to one side, instruments picked to inflict the most amount of pain. A sturdy oak chair now sat in the middle of the room, cuffs of leather now screwed into its legs and arm rests, ready and waiting for the limbs that would soon be bound by them.

Three portable lights were positioned around the room. A video camera stood before the chair in preparation to record all the gruesome events, a computer hooked up to it ready to store the events, keeping them safe until he could get back to his room and send them on. With the touch of a button the whole world would be able to see the breaking of Sam Winchester.

He almost laughed out loud as the excitement within him smoldered, instead he quickened his step. If he was fast maybe he could send Sam's family a little memento today. The only other tunnel entrance he had found had been the first one, although in a more populated area it was still difficult to find unless you knew where to look. After making sure once again that the coast was clear, he quickly made his way inside. Turning on his flashlight he moved his way to where Sam should still be lying.

It wasn't long before his gangly legs came into view, his prey still under the influence of the sedative. Unwilling to carry the heavy weight back to the room, he choose instead to tie Sam's feet together, dragging him along the rough stone floor when he had finally done so. Not caring that Sam's head bounced off the uneven surface, reopening his wound, blood starting to flow again. Not caring that his shirt rode up exposing his bare back to the sometimes sharp stones, a multitude of abrasions starting to litter his torso.

He dumped Sam on to the floor when they arrived at the room, before quickly lifting him into place on the chair, securing him to it at his wrists and ankles. Using a knife off the table he made quick work of removing Sam's clothes, leaving him clad in just his boxers, shivers already wracking his body as it tried to adjust to the chill of the room. Stepping up to the camera, he switched it on and waited a few seconds before focusing in on Sam. Plucking a balaclava from his pack he pulled it over his head before walking into shot.

A punch to the stomach had Sam grunting involuntarily in pain, but still not awakening. A second shot had a more desired effect as Sam's eyes moved rapidly and he struggled to lift heavy lids, blinking a few times when he finally succeeded as the light sent pain shooting through his skull. As he finally began to focus confusion registered on his face as he tried to take in where he was, replaced soon after by fear as his brain registered the restraints preventing him from moving his arms and legs, and the almost nakedness of his body.

His memory of the previous few days started to make itself known through his befuddled mind; the photos, the deeply hidden secrets that someone had found out about. Shakily he inquired. "Who are you? Why are you doing this? Please, just let me go." Someone laughed from behind him and Sam spun his head around in a desperate attempt to see who it was, with no lights there though it was impossible to see clearly, only the shape of a body. A male voice spoke up.

"I want answers Sam Winchester, and I'm here to get them. I want to inflict pain Sam Winchester, and I intend to do just that. I want revenge Sam Winchester, and I aim to get my fair share."

Sam was so caught up in listening to the mans words he hadn't realized that he had moved until he felt the pain spread out from his shoulder. As the guy twisted the knife embedded there, Sam screamed for the first time.

**A.N. . . . . . I actually thought that this chapter was longer than it turned out to be, so I apologize once again for the shortness. Hope that you still enjoyed it, Peanut x**


	8. Chapter 8

**Promises Broken, Secrets Uncovered**

**Summary. . . . . Things had been tough for Sam in the years following his abuse at the hands of the Burton's, yet one thing had remained a constant, his family. One sentence said in fear and anger though has taken even that security away from him. Now someone knows his deepest secret and Sam's having to deal with it all alone. Sequel to Months To Rebuild, Seconds To Destroy. Mentions of Sam's rape and abuse. Rated k **

**Disclaimer. . . . Mistakes are mine, the boys unfortunately are not!**

**A.N. . . . . . Well the weather outside is less than delightful, so I have ventured nowhere today and managed to complete the next chapter. Here it is, and as usual thanks for reading, Peanut x**

"Why are we still out here looking? Why haven't we called the police yet?" Jess anxiously spoke up, after an hour of fruitless searching had gone by and still there was no sign of Sam, no word. "We know something has happened to him, we know someone has Sam, why aren't we getting any help?"

Dean looked at the others, how was he supposed to respond to that? What was he supposed to say? We don't work that way? We keep things like this within the family? No matter what he came up with, he always ended up sounding like some kind two-bit hoodlum, a Mafioso. He looked at Jess, her beautiful face fraught with worry and concern for Sam, he really didn't want to add to that worry, but he knew his answer would do just that.

"They might hurt Sam if we go to the police. We need to wait until they contact us. We need to wait until they make their demands."

"But what if they don't make any?"

"They will!"

"How do you know that?"

"I don't know. I just feel as though they will."

"But they might not! And Sam could be seriously hurt right now for all you know. He could be even more so by the time you decide to do something. I'm going back, I'm not going to take the risk, and I'm going to call the police." Jess turned ready to go and get help, Dean's arm gripping her arm though stopping her in her tracks.

"Jess please, trust me. The cops won't be able to help, they won't find him any quicker believe me. I promise you, I will find Sam, I will bring him back safe to you, and I will deal with whoever has him."

Jess still looked unconvinced, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, she just wanted Sam back so badly, she just wanted things to be back how they were just last week when she and Sam had spent a gloriously sunny afternoon just lounging on the grass outside her dorm talking, laughing, kissing. The older guy, who had made her feel so much better earlier by saying she was needed there, spoke up interrupting her memories.

"Jess, if it makes you feel any better I can ask some of my old colleagues to make discreet inquires, I'm still owed some favors. But Dean is right, until we know who we are dealing with and what they want, contacting the police could get Sam hurt. Something I'm sure you don't want to happen."

"You're a cop?" Jess asked nervously.

"At one time, yes, then I met a young boy who's fate opened my eyes, made me see that no matter how hard I tried, the bad things never stopped. No matter how many people I arrested, there was always someone else to take their place. No matter how much I fought, the victims always ended up the losers. I really believe that this is the best way to deal with this, but I will call in the favors if you want me to."

Jess looked at the three men before her, and towards the short guy, who she had heard Dean call Caleb, who was still searching in the distance, her head telling her to call the police, but her heart told her to trust the hunters. "Okay." She finally got out. "We wait until they contact us, but if they haven't done so by tomorrow morning, we call."

Dean nodded his agreement, turning ready to start searching again, the shrill ringing of his Dad's cell phone cut through the silence though and halted him. Taking it out of his pocket, John read the caller display before shaking his head, four held in breath's being released simultaneously.

"Joshua, what have you found out?" John barked into the phone once he had opened it. A few minutes of tense silence passed before a look of incensed fury crossed his face. "You have got to be kidding me! How the hell did that get past you? How the hell did he slip through the net? I thought you were checking in regularly? How could you not see that he had disappeared? And where the hell did he get hold of the photos?" A few more minutes passed at the end of John's tirade, Josh obviously explaining what he had found, before John finished the call. Slamming the phone shut he rammed it back into his pocket. Stalking a few paces away, John irritably took his frustration out on a shrub that stood in his way.

"Dad?" Dean ventured. "What's happened? What did Josh say? What did he find out?"

"Paul's brother, Joe, has disappeared."

"Shit!" George and Dean both exclaimed.

"Who's Paul? Who's Joe?" Jess asked.

"Paul was one of the guys that took Sam last time." George explained quickly, before asking John. "What else did Josh say?"

"Paul never really recovered from his injuries; he kinda went of the rails mental wise. It seems, according to friends, Joe has been mentioning for quite some time about wanting to find out just who hurt his brother, years in fact. As we know Paul always refused to name his assailants, so no one took Joe seriously, nobody thought he would find out. When Joe turned eighteen he was given Paul's car, Paul by this time had mentally regressed so far they had institutionalized him. Josh thinks that he found some of the photos in there, probably along with Sam's wallet, which we never found."

"Josh checked out the Radley place while the parents were out, hidden under a loose board beneath Joe's bed he found years of research into Sam, you Dean, me, Pastor Jim, even you George. It seems he's been following Sam for quite a while. Josh is gonna try and find out where the guy went, where he liked to hang out. In the mean time he's gonna send us a copy, by e-mail, of Joe's driver's license and a description of his car. We need to get to a computer. Jess where's the nearest place?"

Jess had been standing there almost in a daze, trying to take in all that she was hearing. Previous captors, brothers, injuries, institutes, years of research, following Sam; just what the hell had happened in Sam's past? Just what the hell had happened to this Paul guy? Had Sam had something to do with him getting hurt? Just what had she gotten herself into? Her thoughts were broken as John spoke again.

"Jess, we need a computer."

"What? Yes, sorry, of course. Sam's own one would be the nearest."

"Caleb's gonna keep looking." George told them, when he got back from informing the other hunter of Joshua's findings.

"Let's get going then." Dean stated. They all set off at a run, heading back towards Sam's room, all hoping that this news would be the break they needed to find Sam.

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Sam blinked his eyes hazily, the throbbing ache in his shoulder, from the blade he could still feel imbedded there, the only thing stopping him from passing back out again, the remnants of the sedative combined with the blood loss making him crave the rest his body desired. He looked over at his captor, wondering just who he was and why he was doing this. He willed his brain to form the questions he needed answers to, but no matter how hard he tried the words just wouldn't form. He tested the ropes circling his good arm at his wrist, trying to loosen them, trying to get the circulation back into his numb hand, stopping as the guy spoke up from where he was sat behind a laptop, working.

"You won't get free. I've made sure that you won't."

Sam licked his lips and tried to moisten his mouth before answering with just one word. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why? Sam Winchester." At seeing Sam's eyes widen at hearing his name, Joe added. "Yes, I know who you are. I know all about you, Sammy boy. I know all about the numerous moves. I know all about the variety of name changes. I know all about the things you did in the past. I know all about how filthy and perverted you really are. The one thing I don't know is why? Why my brother had to get hurt?"

"I. . . . I don't know what you're talking about, please just. . . . ."

Further reply from Sam was cut off as Joe's fist collided solidly with Sam's cheekbone, the break from years ago shattering once again under the force of the blow. Sam howled in agony, his body shifting and moving the blade once again, sending even more pain racing through his frame. He panted furiously trying to ride out the spasms and the nausea that rode because of them, but he was unsuccessful and bending slightly over the arm of the chair he dispelled his meager stomach contents; each heave causing the pain to escalate until he could no longer stand it and mercifully passed into oblivion.

Joe lifted Sam's head off his chest and watched as it rolled before slumping back down again. This wasn't going as quickly as he had planned, he thought to himself. He had hoped that once awake and finding himself restrained, Sam would have complied and told him everything he needed to know, yet that hadn't happened. Maybe he would have to up the ante. He slapped Sam across the face, repeating the action when at first he only received a murmur of disapproval in response, the second time Sam's eyes sluggishly opened.

"That's it Sammy boy, open up those eyes for me. We have a little performance to do." Joe told Sam deciding that he would extend the message he had previously been working on.

Sam's eyes shot open at hearing those words, he watched as the guy walked over to a video camera he now saw for the first time, and switched it on. Dread pulsated through him at the thought of what was about to come, and he couldn't help the shivers that rippled throughout his frame. As the guy got closer, Sam called out for the one person he knew could save him.

"Dean!"

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Dean, Jess, John, and George had made it back to Sam's dorm in record time. With Jess with them this time they had no trouble getting past the security and up to Sam's room. Once there Dean quickly booted up Sam's laptop and accessed his account, pleased to see that Josh had been true to his word and an e-mail was there waiting for them. Opening it up, Dean scrolled down the message before clicking onto the attachment.

"Son of a bitch!" He angrily cried out, as the picture of Joe's license showed up, collective groans coming from the other three. "It's that student from the woods. Shit!"

John had already grabbed his phone back out of his pocket, calling Caleb he informed the younger man of their discovery, that they had been played, and asked him to look out for the guy they had stopped earlier. Caleb's foul language filed reply could be heard by all before John cut the call.

"How could we have just let him go?" Dean asked as John placed the phone back into his pocket. "How did we not guess it was him? Why weren't we even suspicious?"

"Dean, we couldn't have known."

Dean didn't hear his Dad though; he was lost back in time, remembering the two times he could have saved Sam the first time this had happened, the two times he had walked away from the Burton house even though he felt something was wrong there. He couldn't believe that he had done it again, he'd let Sam's taker slip through his fingers once more. He felt his breathing begin to hitch, waves of failure crashing over him, smothering him. He felt himself begin to crumble, Sam's chair the only thing keeping him from falling to the floor. A message on the screen caught his eye though, breaking through his downward spiral. An icon had popped up, an icon for new mail.

**A.N. . . . . . Please don't shoot the writer! Sorry about the cliffie! Yeah, okay I'm not really. I hope you enjoyed catch you later, Peanut x**


	9. Chapter 9

**Promises Broken, Secrets Uncovered**

**Summary. . . . . Things had been tough for Sam in the years following his abuse at the hands of the Burton's, yet one thing had remained a constant, his family. One sentence said in fear and anger though has taken even that security away from him. Now someone knows his deepest secret and Sam's having to deal with it all alone. Sequel to Months To Rebuild, Seconds To Destroy. Mentions of Sam's rape and abuse. Rated k **

**Disclaimer. . . . Mistakes are mine, the boys unfortunately are not!**

**A.N. . . . . . Sorry about the wait for this chapter, I hope that the content makes up for my tardiness. Anything in **_**italics **_**is a flash back. Happy reading, Peanut x**

Joe smiled happily as he typed away on his laptop, adding a message to the start of the video he had just created. A little bit of shortening here, and a little bit of splicing there, and he had just what he wanted, just what he needed to bring Sam's protectors to their knees. Out of the corner of his eye, Joe could see Sam still strapped to the chair, his head hung down low over his chest, tears dripping off the end of his nose and bouncing off his bare thighs, lost, crushed, defeated. It had been so easy, just one touch and Sam had been reduced to the quivering wreck before him. Wanting to relive that high he had felt when Sam had crumbled, Joe hit a button and brought the video back up; with glee in his eyes he watched his victory once more.

_Joe heard Sam's breathing hitch the minute he had mentioned they had a performance to do; something clicking in the back of his mind for just a second that maybe the information he had been given was wrong. Seeing Sam shake uncontrollably before him Joe didn't think he looked the type to have done those things, that Sam didn't look the type to have killed those people. His own love for his brother though, and his need for revenge for what his brother was reduced to, pushed those thoughts back. Sam had been caught, Sam knew he was going to pay for what he had done, Sam was just feeling sorry for himself, was just worried for his own life. Walking back towards Sam after switching on the video, Joe watched as the shaking increased, watched as fear and dread flooded those expressive eyes, listened as Sam called out for Dean._

"_Dean's not going to come and save you this time, Sammy. I want my questions answered, I want them answered now. You really don't want to mess with me about this, not when you're so vulnerable to me doing this." Joe watched as Sam's eyes widened in horror at the thought of what was to come. As the hand got closer, Sam's pleading intensified, begging Joe not to do this. Mere inches from Sam's thigh Joe pulled back. "Not yet Sammy, I want my questions answered first. Then I want you to beg some more"_

"_Please, please don't do this. Please don't let me go through that again. Please just let me go. Please, I did nothing to deserve this." Sam whimpered_

_Sam was cut off from further begging as Joe's fist slammed once again into his stomach, the last statement of Sam's infuriating him, how dare he say that he did nothing wrong, Paul was the victim in all of this not Sam. "Did you make my brother beg, Sam? Did you stand in front of him and taunt him before you slashed his face? Did you tell him you did nothing wrong as you stuck the gun to his wrist and pulled the trigger? I'm going to make you pay for what you did to him. Do you here me Sam? I'm going to make you hurt. You deserve everything that is about to come your way. You killed those people, and you destroyed my brother."_

"_I don't know what you're talking about." Sam stuttered out around sobs. "What people? Who is your brother?"_

"_Stop lying to me Sammy boy, you tortured and shot my brother. You killed Corey, or are you going to claim you don't know him too? What about Lesley, remember her?" Joe didn't like the way this was going, either Sam was telling the truth, or he was an exceptional actor, a great liar. As Joe spoke his next words though, he found himself changing his mind yet again. "How about Graham and Sherry Burton, do you remember them Sam?"_

_It was like placing a match to dry wood, Sam reacted instantly, fearfully. "Please, please don't make me go back there. Please don't let them get me again. Please don't let her touch me. Please just let me go home."_

_It was all the confirmation Joe needed. In his warped mind Joe saw Sam's reaction as that of guilt, he saw it as Sam knowing exactly what had happened to his brother. His fury heightened, clouding all rational thoughts and judgment. "I can't let you go home Sam. I have to make you pay for destroying Paul, for destroying my family, for all the people you killed. Physical pain doesn't seem to be working, but maybe this will get you to tell the truth, get you to show some remorse."_

_Joe moved closer again towards Sam, making sure though that the camera could still pick up everything. Reaching up he ran his hand through Sam's hair, relishing the fear this simple action compelled in Sam. With his other hand he started to explore Sam's torso, ghosting over his nipples, before tracing the contours of his muscled abdomen. As his hand moved lower and started caressing Sam's inner thigh, Joe made a show of moving his lips towards Sam's. . . . . . _

That was all it had taken to break Sam's spirit, to completely destroy what had taken him years to rebuild. Joe knew that further answers would not be gotten from Sam, hell after what he had put Sam through he was no longer sure that Sam even had them, but he knew someone that would, and once this video was sent, Joe knew he would have no problems getting them to talk. Unhooking the laptop, Joe placed it in his bag, needing to leave to find a wireless connection. Walking past Sam, Joe leaned in close and whispered. "Back soon Sammy, and if you thought that was bad you thought wrong! When I get back you and I will do another show, only this time you'll be lying on your stomach. Oh and you'll back completely naked."

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Dean had cringed internally when the icon had appeared on the screen, not knowing how he knew; he had no doubt that it was something that would concern Sam. He looked briefly at the others before clicking on the icon and waiting for the message to appear. He heard Jess' intake of breath, his Dad's and George's curses, as after clicking on the attachment, Sam appeared on the screen. Dean didn't know what he had expected, but his near naked, frightened and beaten brother tied to a chair wasn't it. The past few days had already started to wear on Sam, Dean could see. Dark circles now shrouded his eyes, his cheekbones and ribs were more angular and pronounced as the worry and lack of appetite had meant his body had started to use its reserves. Dean noticed also the blood that caked Sam's face from a wound hidden in his hair, noticed the mottled bruising that had started to form on Sam's stomach.

The group watched as Joe came up from behind Sam, the balaclava making him look all the more menacing, the sadistic smile on his face almost taunting them. Jess screamed and turned into George's chest as Joe thrust the knife into Sam's shoulder and twisted it, a look of pure hate emanating from his eyes. Dean, John and George watched as Sam writhed in agony. Even though the film as silent, all three could swear they heard Sam's screams. As the screen went blank the three men all turned to each other, questions forming on their lips, questions that went unanswered as Sam's pleading sounded out from the blackened screen, Joe having twisted Sam's words so that it sounded as though he were pleading to them.

Sam's image began to show once more on the screen, this time complete with sound. They watched as Joe loomed closer and closer to Sam, his hand reaching out to touch him. As Sam cried out for Dean, it was too much for Jess, she couldn't take it anymore and bolted from the room, George following close behind wanting to make sure she was okay, leaving the two oldest Winchester's to endure watching the youngest suffer once again at a perverts hand, watch him suffer because he didn't have the answers that Joe wanted, watch him suffer for being a victim.

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Caleb had stayed behind to continue the search, refusing to allow his mind to think of what Sam could be going through, meticulously, painstakingly going over every inch of pathway, hoping to find just one clue. After finding nothing though, he decided to return to the tree where they had found Sam's blood convinced they had to have missed something. Searching around the tree's base, Caleb found his thoughts and his eye constantly drifting towards the mausoleum, he forced himself to concentrate on his tracking, but it was no use something was calling his attention towards the building.

He gave up his search and strode purposefully over to it and started walking around the perimeter, his eyes devouring every stone, every bush, looking for just one thing that seemed out of place. Finishing three sides he was just about to start on the fourth, his body just starting to turn the corner, when something in the distance caught his eye, making him step back before he carefully peeped back around. At first Caleb thought he was over reacting, that it was just another student, but the familiarity of the clothes, and the hurriedness of the kids steps had him taking a closer look. As the kid rushed back into the woods, Caleb decided to follow, positive now that he had found Sam's taker.

**A.N. . . . . . Hope you enjoyed, more to come soon, catch you all later, Peanut x**


	10. Chapter 10

Broken Promises, Uncovered secrets

**Broken Promises, Uncovered secrets.**

**Summary. . . . . Things had been tough for Sam in the years following his abuse at the hands of the Burton family, yet one thing had always remained a constant, his family. Vicious words spoken in anger and fear though had taken even that away from him. Now Sam's alone and someone has reawakened his nightmare.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . I don't know why I bother; y'all know they don't belong to me. Mistakes though they're all mine.**

**A.N. . . . . . Again I so very sorry for the late post, work woes and laptop breakdowns have been the bain of my life this past week. I hope that the content makes up for the wait. Enjoy, Peanut x**

At the first touch of the stranger's hands on his body, his mind had been taken back in time six years, back to the worst time in his life. When the guy had started to reel off names he didn't recognize, he had briefly hoped that this was all some kind of mistake, that he had been mistaken for someone else. When he had mentioned her name though, he knew that small possibility wasn't to be. He tried really hard to focus on what the guy was saying but images from his past, some he remembered vividly some he wasn't sure were his, from those dark days, began to assault his head bringing back feelings he had tried so hard to repress. He tried to force them back into the small recess in his mind that he had locked them in, but it was no use the lock had been broken and Sherry Burton's long dead face was once again haunting Sam Winchester's life.

He shuddered and cringed and cried as more and more memories attacked him, he remembered the feel of her, how she had touched him, how her voice sounded, how she smelt, the pain of the beatings and the assaults, the feel of her tongue in his mouth, his body being breached. He involuntarily gagged at that thought, the movement sending spikes of pain once again racing through his body, his stomach rolling in response. He knew he was pleading, begging for it to stop, but in his jumbled mind he didn't know who he was begging to, Sherry or the guy.

In his more lucid moments he could see the guy working at a laptop and wondered who he was, and why he was doing this, but those moments wouldn't last very long before Sherry was back ruining his life once again. He fought and he battled but he couldn't seem to break free from the past, a sense of dread began to wash over him as he contemplated being stuck in this living hell for ever. Whispered words though began to break through the fog that had clogged his mind.

"Show. . . . Lying. . . . Naked."

He forced his mind to focus, to forget everything that it was being shown, to concentrate on those spoken words; words that began to become more and more clearer.

"Another show. . . . . Lying down. . . . . Naked."

Did they mean what he thought they did? The more he concentrated the more he managed to push his memories back and more of the guys words forced themselves to be known.

"We're gonna do another show when I get back, only this time you're gonna have to be lying down. Oh, and naked!"

As he remembered all of what had been said, he began to feel intense anger well up within his body, quelling most of his fears. He didn't deserve this. He'd done nothing wrong, why did this keep happening to him? He heard the guy close the door as he left, he knew he wouldn't have long, he knew he couldn't sit there and wait for him to come back, sit there and wait to let it happen again, to be used again, he knew he had to get free, that no one was gonna come rescue him this time, that he was the only one who could stop it.

He began pulling on the ropes that bound his wrists, testing them, his left arm immediately protesting the movement as the damage to his shoulder throbbed with every effort he made. His right hand though gave a little, boosting his confidence and making him concentrate more on that wrist. He pulled and pushed and tugged, gaining a little bit of give every now and then, but it was taking too long and he was conscious of what little time he had. He realized he had no choice, pain or destruction, because deep down he knew that if he was touched that way again he didn't want to come back. 

Bracing himself for what was about to come, he began to pull his hand through the too small gap in the ropes. The pain started immediately as the ropes burned and in some places ripped the skin clean off of his wrist and hand, the knowledge of what would befall him if he was still here when the guy got back though, urged him to battle through the pain and pull all the more. Sweat began to flow from all his pours as the pain increased but he continued to pull. He felt the snare of splinters as they began shred his palm and bury themselves deep inside, yet he still pulled until with one last painful yank, and the crack of breaking bones, he was free.

He sat there panting from the effort and crying with relief before his brain registered that he still wasn't out of trouble yet. He reached over to undo the knots on the rope that bound his other wrist, his trembling, sweaty, bloodied hand though just couldn't do it. Frustrated at being so close yet still so far, he rammed his back into the back of the chair forgetting for just a second the injury to his shoulder. His head reared back and a scream of agony was ripped from his mouth as the pain registered though, before being replaced with an almost maniacal laughter as he realized the solution to his problem was within easy reach. All he had to do was pull it from out of his shoulder.

With effort he turned his head, trying to see if it would be possible, confident when he caught a glimpse that it could be done, it would be excruciatingly painful but it was his only hope. Steeling him self and with his hand still shaky, the smallest finger already swelling, he brought his arm across his body and seized a hold of the knife still embedded within his body. He took a few deep breaths before laboriously starting to pull it free. Spasms of intense agony wracked his body as the serrated edge of the blade ripped and pulled at his flesh forcing him to stop. Gasping for breath and sweating more profusely, his arm dropped to his side as he began to give up once again.

Remembered words from long ago battled with the newer ones the guy had said earlier in his head. "Show, lying, naked. . . . . You're stronger than this Sam. . . . . Show, lying, naked. . . . . . Sam, you have to fight back. . . . . . Lying, naked. . . . . . You're the strongest person I know Sam. . . . . . You can beat this."

His arm began moving again, he didn't deserve this, he'd worked so hard to put the past behind him, to try and have a normal life, to try and be a better man, to get to Stanford, to get to the point where he could date someone like Jess, and he was damned if he was going to allow someone to take all that away from him again. Reaching again for the knife's handle and knowing what he had to lose, he pulled hard and fast. He tried to push through the pain, tried to ignore the sickening, sucking pop as the blade broke free, he tried to ignore the blood as it began to pour down his back once again, and instead he focused on getting free.

He refused to pass out even though his body was begging him to do so, he had to keep going, he had to get to safety, he had to get to help. Using the knife he hacked at the bonds securing his legs to the chair, ignoring the stabbing pain from his ribs as he bent over. Once done he attempted to stand, using the chair to keep him up as his equilibrium rolled alarmingly, threatening to send him crashing back down. Moving tenderly forward, he began to head for the door, knife still grasped in his hand, each step yet more torture to his abused body. His head rang, his face ached, he didn't want to think about his shoulder or his ribs, and each step felt like he was walking on broken glass as pins and needles from circulation returning to his limbs let them selves known. Yet he kept on moving, leaning on the cold stone walls for support. Reaching the door, he wondered what he would do if it was locked, cursing himself for even thinking that way he reached out and grasped the handle, turning it. It opened.

He waited, listening carefully, intently for any noise before stepping outside. A small square hallway could just be made out from the dim light of the room behind him, six passages leading off of it, the sight of which forcing yet more doubts into his mind once again. Which way should he go? What if he went the wrong way? What if the guy was waiting in the tunnel he chose? Would it be better to just stay and wait? He did after all still have the knife. His Dad's training kicked back into his mind though, "no matter what Sam you keep moving" had become some sort of Winchester motto while he had been growing up, and it had never failed him in past hunts; but which way to go?

He couldn't help but smile at his predicament, that smile turning into a laugh as he remembered the old picking game, eenie meenie minie mo. Still smiling he decided to go down the closest passage on the left. Closing the door behind him, He waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness that engulfed him, yet knowing that they wouldn't be much help, there was just no light coming from anywhere but the room. He wished he could keep the door open but knew that by closing it he would buy himself a few more precious seconds and possibly a warning when the guy came back. Using the wall for support he slowly began inching forward.

Having no sense of time, He had no idea how long he had been walking when he started to hear noises behind him, he tried to hurry his steps, tried to get as much distance between him and his kidnapper. He nearly fell as the wall suddenly stopped, his arms flailing and panicking slightly in the pitch blackness his breathing hitched before his hands struck the wall again and he realized he had come to a turn in the tunnel. Fingers trailing across the cold, rough stone once more he began his escape again as cries of disbelief echoed down the enclosed space, his captor had found him gone, he no longer had time to go slow, he could only hope that his pursuer made the wrong choice.

Unable to see anything and moving more recklessly than he would have liked, he had no way of knowing about the loose rocks that littered the pathway ahead until he stumbled and fell over them. As he tried to lever himself back up off the floor his fingers graced yet more stones, dirt and rocks. He moved his hands further up the mound hoping that it was just a small pile. It wasn't, he'd run himself into a dead end. He couldn't help the cry of distress that left his mouth, immediately regretting it knowing that he could have just given his position away, hoping that the tunnels walls would have disguised it somewhat.

The faint beam of torchlight ghosting the wall near the corner told him that it hadn't. All he could do was watch as the light grew closer and closer.

**A.N. . . . . . Sorry couldn't help it on this new chapter either; I just had to end it on a cliffy. So is it Caleb, or Joe? Hope the chapter made up for the wait, as always thanks for reading, Peanut x**


	11. Chapter 11

Broken Promises, Uncovered Secrets

**Broken Promises, Uncovered Secrets**

**Summary. . . . . . . Things have been tough for Sam in the years following his abuse at the hands of the Burton's, yet one thing remained a constant, his family. One sentence said in fear and anger though has taken even that security away from him. Now someone knows his deepest secret and Sam's having to deal with it all alone. Sequel to Months To Rebuild, Seconds To Destroy. Rated K.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . Mistakes are mine, the guys unfortunately are not.**

**A.N. . . . . . . I'm so, so, so sorry for the extra long wait between this chapter and the last. As some of you will know I got sidetracked writing another fic for a very good friend, and then I struggled to get motivated on this one again. I'm back now though and I hope this chapter makes up for the delay.**

Sam urgently tried to move the rocks that were blocking his only escape route, the sharp edges tearing into the soft flesh of his fingers, but he didn't feel the pain, didn't see the blood, just heard the footsteps and saw the torchlight getting closer and closer. Although trying to work silently, still hoping that the guy would turn back, Sam couldn't help the scream that tore from his lips as one of the dislodged rocks slipped from his hands and dropped onto one of his bare feet, the crack that came from the limb loud and resounding in the tight confines. Sam crumpled to the floor, defeat evident in both his eyes and his posture. It was no use, he wasn't getting out, he wasn't getting through the blockage, he was doomed, destined to be played with once more.

The old doubts began to surface within Sam yet again. This would never have happened to Dean, or his Dad. They would never have allowed themselves to be captured not once, not even twice, but three times. He didn't deserve to carry the name Winchester, he was weak, he was stupid, he was a coward cowering in a corner, he was everything a Winchester wasn't. So lost in his melancholy thoughts, Sam never noticed that the light had gotten even closer, it only registering in his head as it was shone into his eyes, forcing him to blink rapidly, the action of which broke into his mind.

"Sam?" A voice spoke out. "Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. Why did you run, Sam? They always say the guilty ones run. Are you guilty of hurting my brother? Are you guilty of killing Corey?"

Sam looked up at the mention of that name. Why was it familiar to him? What did it mean? A flash of fragmented memories raced across Sam's mind, a room, naked, Dean hurt, a guy, he tried to hold onto it but it danced away leaving him bewildered and confused. He tried to dredge it up again to see if more details emerged but it was useless, the images seeming to tease him from the edge of his mind but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't seem to reach them, only intensifying the headache he already had.

"Answer me Sam! Did you slice my brother's face? Did you pull the trigger of the gun that shattered his wrist? Did you?"

"I don't know. . . . . I don't know what you are talking about. Who's your brother? Who's Corey? Why are you doing this to. . . . . . ."

Sam's confused, scared words were cut off as Joe turned the gun sharply and sent the butt end crashing into his face. "I know you were there. I have the pictures to prove it. You destroyed my brother's life, he didn't die like Corey, but you might as well have killed him for what he has become. He used to be so vibrant, so full of life, my best friend, my hero; but then you came along and he got involved in your sordid games. He's not like that any more, he's no longer any fun and it's all your fault." Joe paused as he threw his wallet at Sam. "Look at the pictures in there." Joe waited, pushing the muzzle of the gun into Sam's temple when he made no move to look. "Look at them Sam!" Joe watched again as this time Sam, with trembling hands, opened the wallet. "They're who you destroyed. I see that you recognize them, that you know who they are, it's written all over your face."

Sam had gasped as he opened the wallet, the smiling faces glancing back at him were so familiar, but why? He gasped again as memories long since forgotten and stored deep inside came rushing back, assaulting his mind, tears leaking unabated down his cheeks as they forced him to remember what had happened all those years ago. He rocked back and forth as Sherry's face came into his mind, but there was something different, she looked the same, but she smelt differently. Sam looked wide eyed at Joe when the reality finally hit with enough force to knock the air from his lungs. "It was someone else. It was someone else. It was someone else." Sam mumbled, whilst inside yet another war raged. Why had Dean lied? Why had Dean kept the truth from him? Why hadn't Dean told him?

Joe watched silently as Sam broke before him. Again he was doubting what he was doing; Sam wasn't turning out to be the big, bad guy he had always envisioned him to be; in fact he was beginning to look more and more like then victim in all of this, but if that was the case then that would mean Paul had willingly participated in Sam's terror and abuse. But Paul was Joe's hero big brother, the guy that would do anything to make sure Joe was happy. He couldn't have done those things willingly, could he? No! Joe thought to himself. No,no,no,no,no,no! It was Sam's fault, it had to be. His resolve steeled once again he turned his gun back Sam's way.

"I'm going to make you pay for what you've done. I'm going to make sure that your disgusting ways never hurt anyone again. I'm going to send you straight back to the hell you belong in."

Pulling his finger back on the trigger, Joe released the hammer of the gun. In the small, tight confines the sound of a single gunshot rang out.

SNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSNSN

Caleb had called Dean as soon as he had spotted Joe entering the woods, the elder Winchester brother sprinting from the dorm before the older hunter had even finished, not even waiting to explain to the others what had been said. Rushing back the way they had all gone earlier, Dean prayed that Caleb was right, that he had found Joe. When he reached the woods he searched around frantically for the clues he knew instinctively Caleb would have left for him. Finding them easy enough he started to follow them, the feeling of dejavu washing over him as he trod once again the path that had led them to no where previously. As Caleb's clues led to the hidden doorway, Dean spared a quick thought to the fact that they had been so close, before pushing it away, it would not help him now. Lifting the door he quickly made his way into the darkness below.

Pulling a small maglight from his pocket, Dean switched it on, the beam lessening the darkness somewhat as he started making his way down the tunnel and to what he hoped would be Sam, his skin crawling as he thought of his baby brother hurt, confused and alone down here with that maniac. He had gone less than thirty feet when he heard the shouts coming from ahead of him, his first instinct was to cover the light from his torch to avoid detection, but as the shouts faded and moved away from his position, his overwhelming need to save Sam kicked in and he hurried all the faster down the shaft, still trying his hardest to keep from making any noise.

Reaching a small square hallway Dean listened for movement before he quickly panned the torchlight around noticing the five other passageways and the door that stood directly in front of him. Reaching around to his back waistband Dean pulled out his gun and released the safety. Slowly, deliberately, carefully he inched towards the door. Upon reaching it he painstakingly began to turn the handle and nudge it open. Dean's heart dropped to his stomach as he recognized the room for the web cast, dropping even further when he noticed it was now standing empty.

Nausea rose when he caught sight of the chair that Sam was not long ago tied to, knifed and beaten on, the bloody ropes that now hung loosely around the arms, and the pool of crimson that nestled between the legs. Dean turned away from the scene before him, his brain registering the fact that he had spent too much time looking at the empty room. Sam was out there, and Sam was injured, badly. He needed to find his brother, now. As he stepped back into the hallway, Dean unknowingly was faced with the same reaction Sam had previously been faced with, which tunnel to take. He went to turn to the right, stopping and dropping his torch in shock as a gunshot rang out.

"Sammy! Nooooooooo."

**A.N. . . . . . . Sorry about the cliffie and about the short chapter, I just needed to get something out there. I'll try and make the next one longer. As always thanks for reading, catch you soon, Peanut x**


	12. Chapter 12

Broken Promises, Uncovered Secrets

**Broken Promises, Uncovered Secrets.**

**Summary. . . . . . Things have been tough for Sam in the years following his abuse at the hands of the Burton's, but one thing has always remained a constant, his family. Words expressed in anger and fear though have taken even that security away from him. Now someone knows his deepest secrets and Sam's having to deal with it all alone. Sequel to Months To Rebuild, Seconds To Destroy. Mentions of Sam's rape and abuse.**

**Disclaimer. . . . . . Not mine never will be. Boo Hoo! Mistakes they're mine, and mine alone.**

**A.N. . . . . . Well here it is the finale of this fic. I would like to take this opportunity to thank every one for reading and reviewing, I hope you're not too disappointed with how it ends. Just a few mentions before I let you get to the good stuff;**

**Thank you so much to darksupernatural for her help, advice and hard pushes to get me writing again; also to sammygirl1963 who desperately wanted this sequel, I hope it turned out to be what you wanted; lastly to the Linzey an anonymous reviewer who gave me a slight heart attack and a bit of a laugh when she informed me that Jared's mom is called Sherri, sorry didn't know! Whoops!**

Dean cursed himself for his stupidity, why had he shouted out like that? He'd just warned Joe that he was nearby, that he was close to rescuing Sam; or close to avenging his death. He shook his head to clear those thoughts away and pushed his negative feelings aside, the shot could have been a warning, the shot could have missed in the dark, the shot could even have come from Sam, or maybe it was Caleb's gun? Dean hadn't come across the older hunter yet. Turning back around to face the way the sound had come from, Dean was faced yet again by the uncertainty of which route to take, grimly laughing at the fact that he only had three tunnels to choose from this time.

Bending down he picked up his fallen flashlight and once again began panning it around, taking his time this time as he searched for clues to make the decision easier. A sickening feeling rose in his stomach as his light finally picked up the trail of blood drops leading to the tunnel nearest the room. Turning the light off, Dean rechecked the safety was off his gun as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Still not knowing what had happened up ahead he would have to go in blind, and hope for the best and an element of surprise. Placing his free hand against the cold stone wall for guidance, Dean slowly, cautiously, quietly began to move forward towards his much loved younger brother, praying, hoping that he wasn't too late.

He slowed down and tried to calm his breathing as he started to hear noises up ahead of him, his ears straining to make out the owners, but it was no use the tones too low. Creeping forward even more stealthily now, Dean was so concentrated on trying to make as little noise as possible, he jumped when one of the voices spoke out seemingly just in front of his face.

"I thought you called yourself a hunter? I could hear you coming a mile away. I'll have to have a word with your daddy about getting you some extra training. Get your arse in here Dean; I'm getting cold waiting for you to arrive."

"Caleb?"

"Who else, brother?"

"Sam? Is Sam okay?" Dean rushed out the questions almost as quickly as he rushed the last few yards to the bend in the tunnel. "Caleb, answer me dammit."

As he was about to round the bend, Dean was stopped short by Caleb's strong arms. "Dean wait a minute, don't go rushing in there and making the situation even worse."

Dean tried to push past Caleb, wanting, needing to catch sight of Sam, to see with his own eyes that Sam was okay, that Sam was alive. "Caleb! God damn it, let me go!"

"Dean will you just for once listen to me? If you go rushing in there, you're gonna make things worse, believe me."

"Is Sam okay? Is he alive?"

"Alive, yes. Okay, not so much."

Caleb moved to the side slightly and finally allowed Dean to see past him and catch a glimpse of the flashlight illuminated dead end. Dean took in the sight of a prone and unconscious Joe, blood blossoming on the shoulder of his shirt from the flesh wound Caleb had inflicted, his face beginning to bruise from where the butt end of Caleb's gun had struck the boy sending him, for now, into blessed oblivion. Dean could feel his fury rise at the kid, could feel his mind fill with the need to inflict his own pain on the boy for what he had done to Sam, but that anger was quashed as his eyes finally moved past Joe and settled on his younger sibling. Dean's heart sank; his tears flowed in earnest as for the third time in his life he looked down on a bruised, bloodied, broken Sam.

Sam was a mess, mentally and physically. Looking closer Dean could see the evidence of Joe's blows to Sam's stomach as the bruises fanned out, vivid and cruel looking. He also noted the swelling and darkness that had begun to take hold of what he ascertained to be a broken foot. Clad only in his boxers Sam sat cowering at the bottom of a pile of rubble, his legs bent and pulled up to his chest, one arm wrapped tightly around them, whilst the other was placed between his thighs and chest, his head tucked protectively against his knees, his bangs hiding his features from sight, as he rocked back and forth, shivers wracking his painfully thin body; whether from cold, shock, fear, or a combination, Dean didn't know. Alls he did know, because he recognized the signs, was that Sam was shutting down, retreating into that secure place in his own mind, a place where he felt safe.

"No! No! No!" Dean yelled out as he tried to lunge out of Caleb's arms once again. Turning his attention to the still unconscious Joe, he added. "You bastard! I swear I'm going to kill you for this, you son of a bitch!"

"Have you quite finished? Do you really think that this ranting is helping Sam right about now? Do you? Cause I gotta tell you I think you're wrong, so if you want to carry on, go and do it somewhere else." Caleb watched as Dean's anger deflated before him once more, watched as the younger man took a deep breath before asking.

"Let me go Caleb, let me go to Sam."

"No."

Dean looked up in astonishment at Caleb's refusal. "No? No? Why? Why can't I go to him? I'm calm now, I'm okay."

"Dean, Sam's not there right now, he's confused and. . . . . ."

"All the more reason for me to be with him."

"Dean, he wouldn't let me near him."

"I'm not you Caleb, I'm his brother!"

Caleb ignored the slight; he had over the years become just that to Sam. "Dean, he has a knife placed against his throat. He thinks he's still in danger, he thinks we're. . . . . he thinks we're gonna. . . . . do that to him again and he's prepared to die first."

"He'll know it's me Caleb. I can make him snap out of it. He'll let me in, I just know it."

"I'm sorry Dean, but I don't think he will. He was mumbling before, most of it was nonsense but I could make out some of it."

"And? What was he saying?"

Caleb paused before answering, knowing that he was about to crush his friend, his brother all the more. "He said. . . . he said, Dean lied to me; also something about it not being her. I think he's remembered everything that happened the second time. I think he knows about Lesley and the guys."

Caleb's instincts were right; he watched as the severity of his words hit Dean hard and crushed the once proud man all the more. A sense of pride for the younger man rose up in Caleb though as he watched him recover slightly and speak up in a quiet, sorrow filled voice.

"I have to try, Caleb. I have to try and at least make amends, to make him see that I never meant to hurt him that I just wanted to save him from more pain. Please let me try, please let me go to him."

Caleb could feel the sting of tears in his own eyes. Glancing away from Dean, he looked towards Sam, the one person in his lifetime who had always been able to break through, and into his heart of stone. In the past he would have put his life savings on the fact that Dean would be the one to make Sam recover, this time though he wasn't too sure. In Sam's eyes his trust had been broken by the person, by the people, he held dearest to him; a trust that after everything he had been through, after everything that had happened to him, he held onto for dear life. This time, Caleb felt, Dean would fail.

"Okay." He eventually relinquished. "I have to let you try, but if he starts getting upset, or looks as though he's gonna do something stupid like hurt himself, then I will pull you back. I mean it Dean! At the moment Sam's my only concern."

"Okay! Okay!" Dean replied as he pushed past Caleb, the older man relenting this time and allowing Dean to go. Dean hesitated once the restraint had gone though, familiar doubts rearing their heads once more. Could he do this again? Could he bring Sam back from the brink once again? He steeled himself before continuing, he had to be able to, he had no choice, Sam deserved to live a good life, a life free from demons. Inching slowly, stealthily along Dean crept closer to his brother, trying desperately to avoid any sudden movements, holding even his breathing in check in an attempt to make no noise. Once close enough, but still not crowding Sam, Dean spoke up.

"Sam? Sammy? It's okay now bro, you're safe. You're safe." When he got no answer Dean tried again. Sam? Sammy? Please look at me? Please let me know that you're okay? Please just let me in? Please let me check you over?"

This time he reached forward, just wanting Sam to know he was there, just wanting Sam to feel a familiar touch, thinking that maybe Sam was too far gone to realize he was there, to realize he was safe. His fingers were mere centimeters away when Sam's voice finally sounded out, making Dean realize that maybe his brother wasn't as far gone as he thought, the tone scaring the older brother. A tone that wasn't what he had expected, that wasn't scared and sad and defeated; but was filled with anger and hurt and accusations and dripping with venom.

"Why Dean? Why did you lie to me?"

Sam looked up to Dean as he spoke, making the older brother's breath catch in his throat, not just from the anger and hurt that clouded Sam's eyes, not even from the cuts and bruising that littered his face, but from the precariously place knife that was already piercing the soft flesh of Sam's neck.

"Sammy, please put the knife down, please I didn't lie to you Sam."

"You let me believe it was all S. . . . Sh. . . . . her fault! You let me believe there was no one else. You lied to me Dean, to me! I'm your brother and you lied. I trusted you and you betrayed me."

"No Sam, please It wasn't like that. What good would it have done if I had told you what really happened? I did what I thought was best Sam."

"Best for whom, Dean? You? Dad? Me? Well look how your best turned out. Go away Dean."

"Sam, please?"

"Go away, Dean!"

"Sam. . . . . ."

"Leave me the hell alone, Dean! Just go away, please."

"No Sam! I'm not gonna leave you here like this."

"Fine! Then I'll leave you here." Sam struggled to feet, nearly falling straight back down as blood loss, exhaustion and his broken foot all complained in protest. Still he brushed off Dean's concerned support, choosing instead to lean heavily on the wall.

"Sam?" It was Caleb's voice that spoke up this time. "At least let us help you out of here and to a hospital. If you still want to be alone afterwards, so be it." Caleb ignored Dean's furious gaze, keeping his attention firmly fixed Sam's way.

"Did you know?" Sam waited for an answer, when he didn't receive one he carried on. "Does everybody else know? Dad? Jim? Josh? George?" The silence was all the answer that he needed. "Get out of my way! Leave me the hell alone. I don't need you. I don't need any of you."

"Samuel Winchester!" John's voice boomed out in the confined space, making Sam flinch involuntarily, his anger diminishing as quickly as it had arrived, the need to get out of there increasing.

"Please just let me leave. Please just leave me alone."

It was the next voice that crumpled Sam's resolve, which sent him crashing back down to the floor and retreating once more to his safe place.

"Sam?" Jess' soft voice whispered out.

"You told her? You told her?" Sam couldn't bear to look at the woman he loved dearly, couldn't bear to see the disgust he knew would be evident in her eyes, or even worse to see pity there. He cringed as he heard her step towards him, flinched as she touched his bare arm, tried to push her away as she took him in her arms, broke down and sobbed as she crooned words of encouragement and reassurance. Leaving the two alone, George and John took care of Joe, as Caleb left to get Sam some clothes. Dean refused to leave standing a few feet away, trying in his own way to give Sam the space he wanted.

As Sam was taken to hospital he refused to look or talk to anyone but Jess.

When he was released and brought back to his dorm, he would still only respond to her.

And so it went on, as the days turned to weeks, the weeks into a month, no matter what Dean, or his Dad, or Caleb, or George would say or do, Sam wouldn't give them the time of day. The others left as hunts began to need attention, leaving Dean the last one there, until one morning even he got a call requesting his presence for a particularly bad hunt. Before leaving he searched Sam out, finding him sitting staring aimlessly into space, under his tree. Dean sat down quietly beside him, pleased that for once when Sam didn't immediately get up and walk away, and seemed for once to be ready to listen.

"I'm sorry Sam. I'm sorry that I never put you straight on what happened back then, but I never lied to you. I thought that by staying quiet I could stop you from being hurt all the more. I was wrong, and for that I am truly sorry. I hope that one day you'll be able to forgive me and we can get back what we had. I love you little brother, always remember that. I'm going to give you the space that you wanted; the time that you needed, but please remember I'm only a phone call away." Leaning over he placed a quick kiss onto Sam's unruly bangs. "I love you Sammy, forgive me?"

Getting up he walked away without looking back, not seeing the tears that began to run freely down Sam's face. As he got into the Impala and drove away, Dean finally looked back and watched as Stanford got smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror; little knowing it would be two years until he saw both it and Sam again.

"_In two years, I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing. I can't do this alone."_

"_Yes you can."_

"_Yeah, but I don't want to." The pilot._

**A.N. . . . . . Well I hope it turned out how you thought? I have a feeling that some of you will be after blood because of the ending, feel free to let me know what you think, you never know I could go back in and change it! Thanks again for reading, will catch you all with a new fic soon, Peanut x**


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